


the boys who lied

by snivelluslestrange



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snivelluslestrange/pseuds/snivelluslestrange
Summary: Essentially a long slow burn au where Cedric lives but under tyranny of Dolores Umbridge.Unlike Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory is not used to the prying eyes, furitive glances and whispers behind hands that shoot his way as walks the corridors of Hogwarts School, a place he had always felt at ease, but things are different now.For one thing, most of his so called friends seem to believe the countless newspaper articles, more then they believe him, for another, living under Professor Umbridge's tyranny was taking a toll on him.Oh, and there's also the added extra of a teenage crisis, because whatever he was feeling, Cedric was sure he did not have a crush on Harry James Potter
Relationships: Bill Weasley & Charlie Weasley & Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Ginny Weasley & Ron Weasley, Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott & Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	the boys who lied

It could be said that Cedric Diggory had simply fallen victim to a result of simple jealousy. Would it not be far more logical, not to mention easier on the mind, to say that young Harry Potter had simply let his angsty teenage hormones out on his competitor, shot a simple hex that knocked him unconscious, felt an upsurge of remorse instantly, and decided to come up with some bizarre idea that a fallen dark wizard had returned from the dead. Of course, Fudge himself knew very well that it would not be the first time a certain Harry James Potter found himself in a rather odd situation, such as blowing up a relative, and he had not since forgotten this time last year when he had exasperatedly claimed that Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus, and Sirius Black, the escaped convict who coincidentally happened to be Harry’s godfather, was completely innocent.

At the time Fudge had put the whole situation down to the stress of a troubled orphan and lack of sleep but things were seriously getting out of hand. Yet, Cedric Diggory was perfectly alive, having been transferred to St. Mungo’s mere minutes following his return from the maze. Fudge looked out of his office window and watched as dawn broke through. Dumbledore had since left after trying to convince him that every word Harry was claiming was the truth and immediate action was to be taken in the wizarding world and yet Fudge still felt a waning of indifference. Not only was he still nauseous and sweating from the amount of times Dumbledore had uttered the word ‘Voldemort’, he also recalled the words of Severus Snape, a man insanely close to Dumbledore himself and a former follower of He who must not be named, stating that Dumbledore had always had quite a fondness towards Harry from the day he had entered the castle and that Harry could, and had, gotten away with many things. It could be true that Dumbledore was off his rocker. The man was old, in fact how old, Fudge had no idea, and it could be likely that Dumbledore simply had some strange connection to young Harry, the boy had realised and was taking advantage of the ancient wizard. That, in Fudge’s opinion, made more sense than anything he had heard tonight. It simply did not make sense that this fourteen-year-old had yet again, managed to escape the hands of the most dangerous dark wizard there ever was, perfectly alive along with his teammate and there was a sudden feeling of inner rage towards Dumbledore. He had entered his office and practically lectured him for three hours on how he should make changes in the wizard community. Was, he, Fudge not the Minister for magic? Wasn’t it his authority to make decisions for the Wizarding World?

Suddenly something clicked in his mind. Of course, and yet he had not seen it coming before. Dumbledore had always wanted the position for Minister of Magic, he had even been encouraged to take it on. It was a brilliant plan. Claim that a dark wizard had returned and watch Fudge struggle on how to handle the community, then of course it would seem as if it was he, Fudge, who was off his rocker which could lead to the role of Minister being stripped off him immediately. He slumped in his chair, feeling victorious with bubbling rage. If Dumbledore was trying to paint a false image of Fudge to the Wizarding world, Fudge had to stop him immediately, but stop Dumbledore? It would be hard, yes, but worth it, for all his might Cornelius Fudge knew that he was not going to have his record tarnished by a century old man. Wringing his, ever so slightly shaking hands together, he began to marvel about all the ways he could stop Dumbledore and young Harry. He had a fleeting vision, however, of Cedric Diggory, remembering the shock that had gone through his body when he thought that he was dead, could it be? No, no, Dumbledore wanted him to think so, and with that, he poured himself a glass of Brandy, called for his senior administrator. “Wynona, dear”, he started as a tweed woman in a plum knit vest, stuck her head round the door. “Could you please call for the Weasley boy and Kingsley, please”.

The sun had fully come up and the Cedric Diggory in question was in bed, but something felt off. Cedric opened his eyes to the bright light of the sun and as he covered his hands with his face, he could feel a horrible sensation. That feeling one would get after taking a short afternoon nap only to realise that, to their horror, that they had over slept and it was now early in the morning, the feeling that they had been hit by bus, except in this case, Cedric actually felt as though he had been hit by a bus, not that he had any personal knowledge of that particular experience, but the bruising and aching in his arms were certainly causing him a great deal of discomfort. He made to sit up, but he couldn’t, he was in great pain, but that was not the reason. He could not get up because he was blocked. Now, of course that sounds like a ridiculous concept, but as he tried again, Cedric soon realised that he was fully confined to his bed

Taking short relieving breaths, to try and wake himself up and recover slightly from the meaningless, undecipherable images that had swam in his dreams last night he turned his head to look around. The ceiling was white, the wall on his right was white, the wall on his left was white.

This was not his room, in a matter of speaking, however much he did not want to seem boastful, his room at home was rather more spacious and less blank than this, but of course, it would also be odd for him to be in his own bedroom in any case, because it was still school term, he thought, yawning.

This was definitely not his dorm, for one thing, there was no mustard yellow hanging’s surrounding him like he always woke up to, and this place smelled strange, oddly clinical. Perhaps this was just some very strange dream.

He tried again to push himself upwards but, yet again, he was blocked from doing so, as if there was some sort of invisible barrier holding him down from the chest down, because he could still very freely move his hands.

Giving up, he sighed loudly just before he hit another realisation, if he was hurt and was in a bed that did not belong to him, the only logical reasoning is that he was at the hospital wing, but no, this place was far too white, he looked around the room only then noticing the complicated machines, some with tubes of gold liquid that lead to a place beyond Cedric’s eyeview. There was a hovering notepad that would scribble madly every few seconds, a small table in the corner with empty, corked, glass bottles, an armchair which a red shawl sprawled across it – oh.

Cedric was not in the Hogwarts hospital wing, he had been to the place a few times and as far as he was aware, there was no private rooms with walls, only a large room with curtains and no fancy equipment. No, Cedric was at St. Mungos, he had to have been. He did not know of any other wizard hospital’s in England and it would also explain why he had the inability to move around. ‘B class patients which are the second most severe cases, are required to be restrained to their beds following a magical emergency’, he had read it in a book on healing once, the occupation he hoped to take up after Hogwarts, but it still pained him how he could remember what he wanted work as but still had no clue why he was in there. He groaned and closed his eyes, watching shapes and colours at the back of his eyelids for about what felt like multiple days but only about an hour or two later, he heard a click of a door, had they really locked him in, and heard footsteps into the room, multiple footsteps.

Unfortunately, due to his current position, he could not sit up to look at whoever was there, but the footsteps seemed to have stopped and there was a lot rapid whispering.

“Well, there can’t be more than two visitor’s in at a time”

“I’m not a visitor, he’s my son”.

“Stop it Amos, you know exactly what she means!”

“Whatever, I don’t understand why we are having this conversation in the first place anyway, the boy clearly doesn’t want to come in besides”, his father’s voice spat, “Why are we letting him, near our son”.

“Who?”, but it was Cedric’s voice who asked this time, feeling rather frustrated.

“Oh, you’re awake, dear”, said the unknown and she appeared over him, jet hair in a nastily tight bun and sharp jaw. She lifted her wand, and Cedric watched warily, as she brandished it over him and with a swish and flick and a complicated cross motion, he felt a warm feeling wash over him and realised he was free.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he sat up, though, he half – wished he had hesitated because his head throbbed momentarily at the sudden movement, he rapidly looked around the room before he spotted his parents standing by the door, concern written all over their face for a moment, before they started towards him, attacking him with slaps on the shoulder, hugs, kisses and ruffling of hair.

Cedric, on the other hand, despite longing for someone to be in the room a moment ago, felt quite indifferent about this sudden affection and after his parents had finished their mumbled words and physical affections towards him, he cut across them quite clearly.

“What happened? Why am I here, Mum, what is going on? Who is waiting outside and why won’t he come in?”, he let out exasperatedly, with the air of someone trying to finish something in a very short time. He watched as his mother and father exchanged nervous glances and felt something drop in his stomach as they straightened up.

“You were in an accident dear, I’m your nurse by the way, Arinette, you don’t remember the past few days because you were given a tonic, you were lucky to live”, the lady, who had been rummaging through the cabinet just then, said, simply. The past few days.

“It should wear off gradually, in about an hour you’ll remember most things, in a few more you’ll be able to remember everything quite clearly, mind you, it isn’t easy on the mind, so I suggest you take another nap”, however she said it as if she knew very well that he was not going to do that.

She then turned to Mr and Mrs Diggory, “Once his memory is restored fully, we’ll transfer him into a common ward”, and with that she nodded at him and left the room, the hovering notebook tailing after her before the door shut with a snap.

His parents took a seat in the armchair’s either side of his bed, his mother taking his hands in hers and stroking them softly.

Cedric wanted to ask what exactly the accident was, but by the look on his Fathers screwed up expression and how his mother refused to meet his eyes, he decided to wait until he knew himself. “Who’s outside the door”, he asked, less fierce and gentler this time.

He looked at his father, knowing that apparently, he was not happy about whoever it was, and when he hesitated, his mother spoke. “A few people, dear, well I don’t recognise them all but one of them is Harry Potter, another is-“

“Harry Potter?!”, Cedric, interrupted. “What on earth is _he_ doing here?”, he felt another icy drop in his stomach. He may not remember much, but he did know that an accident or situation where Harry Potter was concerned and other participants ended up in hospitals, could not be good ones.

“He wanted to see if you were alright, well, a lot of people did, Mark and Lewis are coming later tonight, but the school term ended yesterday, and Dumbledore said that it would be better if Harry and his friends could come and see you today rather than during the summer holidays”.

Cedric hadn’t taken in a word she had just said, but a memory of Harry and Cedric in a dark area suddenly flashed into his mind and he knew instantly that Harry Potter, the boy who was his fellow Hogwarts Champion, had something to do with this. In fact, if he remembered correctly, the two boys had been due to enter the maze for the third task to represent Hogwarts in few days’ time, but if the school term had just ended – oh.

Something had gone wrong. The third task had backfired, how, he wasn’t completely sure what it was that went wrong, but he was positive he was correct.

“Tell him to come in, I want to see him, tell him I want to see him”.

“Son, I honestly don’t think-“, his father started but was swiftly stopped but his mother who gave him a deathly look.

“Cedric said he wants to talk to him, Amos!”, she snapped. “But he’s not in his right mind!”, he shot back at her, standing up, eyebrows furrowed as he gestured towards Cedric. “You’re not in your right mind!”, she spat back and there was a moment of ringing silence where the two stared daggers at each other. His father opened his mouth a few times before closing it and then, looking quite sheepish and sat back down, staring ahead.

Cedric had never heard his mother get this mad at his father before, at another time he would have been scared or nervous but, perhaps it was his head which was aching with flashing images, the bruised feeling throughout his body or, his ever - growing curiosity of Harry Potter’s presence, but he would rather they shut up and left.

“Can you please just get him, I want to talk to him, Dad, please?”, he asked, looking directly at his father now. He was no stranger to his father’s tantrum’s and grumpiness, that was for sure, his mother had even mentioned, on quite a few occasions, that he had bigger mood swings than the actual teenager living in the house and an even bigger ego, but Cedric was not scared of his father, or even intimidated, if anything, he found the man rather annoying, so he was not afraid to speak up against him.

He watched them go and let out a stressed-out breath, running his fingers through his hair slowly. His head was aching with the little bits of scattered information and images returning to his mind, but he looked as the sun was shining through the window behind him and he could hear the morning birds chirping beautifully, so his mood was highly indifferent.

He could remember the night before the third task now, but it felt strange. Like he was looking onto a stranger’s memories from a distance, he almost felt like an intruder to his own mind and it was insanely uncomfortable. Just then, the door handle turned down slowly and Cedric watched carefully as a head of black hair poked through the door, looking at him with a half grin, half uncomfortable expression, was Harry Potter.

He seemed to have gotten a haircut and was wearing a very formal plaid shirt that made Cedric want to laugh. He entered the room completely and made a great deal of closing the door behind him, without making a sound.

"Hi, Harry". Cedric thought that if he did not start the conversation, no one would. Harry turned to face him with an awkward nod. "Hi, Cedric, are you uh- are you alright?".

Cedric grinned; he could not help himself. "I've been better, but I've also been hit by a bludger before, so I think I'll be fine, you?", he said smiling, trying to relieve the tension.

Harry did not return the smile, instead he blinked a bit too quickly for a moment before taking a deep breath out. "Look Cedric, I just came here to say I'm sorry, well- Hermione sort of forced me to say it to you directly, I shouldn't have participated in the tournament in the first place or I should've taken the cup without you, I'm not sure, but whatever it is, I should've done something because all this wouldn't have happened", he said, in one difficult breath, looking everywhere in the room but at Cedric. “-and now I feel bad because, I got another person hurt and you’re dad looks like he’s going to-”

"Harry, stop", Cedric interrupted in a voice just above a whisper, yet harry stopped abruptly, his was head aching, and the two made eye contact, Harry, looking anxious.

"I'm not- I have no idea what you're talking about, honestly", as Harry looked skeptical. "Sit down, Harry, he gestured to the armchair on his right, but Harry just glanced at it.

"The nurse gave me something, a tonic, I'm not quite sure what it was exactly but-". "You can't remember much, right, she told us, I forgot, sorry".

"Yeah- look, what happened? All I remember is entering the maze", at the word maze, Harry flinched, and Cedric felt bis breathing hitch slightly. So, something did go wrong in the maze. "-and that's all, how come I'm in hospital, I don't understand, nobody is telling me anything". "When will you have your memory back?", he said, ignoring Cedric's question entirely and was looking at the window behind him with a calculating expression.

"I dunno, a few hours I think", and the two made eye contact again.

Staring into Harry's face, he saw that there was a pained expression on it, almost uncomfortable.

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it, I'm sorry, you'll know soon, it would probably be better if you don't to be honest, sorry I got you into all this", and he shook his head looking at the floor. 

"It's alright, you can sit down you know", and after a few painful seconds of utter silence, Harry took a seat on Cedric's right, shifting uncomfortably and looking forward at the windowless door.

"Are you alright, Harry, I mean- I take it that if I'm hurt and you were with me, that you were hurt too". 

He hesitated, then nodded, I'm alright, ugh, thanks, I was at the hospital wing for a few days, but I wasn't as bad as you, everyone thought that you were-", he paused, clearing his throat and Cedric instinctively reached for his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. 

"It's alright, I understand", even though he very much did not, and the two went silent, Cedric looking at Harry, Harry staring forward. "If you don't mind, urgh- how come you came to see me", Cedric said, hating the silence and how heavy it was. 

Harry, yet again, blinked very fast, then turned to face Cedric, glancing at his hand which was still on his shoulder. He retracted it quickly and the two smiled, defusing some of the obvious tension between them. It was like a sigh of relief.

"Well, I'm not too sure, I woke in the hospital wing two days later and Fleur and Krum were there, but you weren't, so I asked Hermione and Ron, if they'd heard about you and they told me you were here and that Dumbledore said I should visit the day after we close- if I'd like", he said, shrugging.

"That was nice of you, looking out for your fellow champion", and he winked at him sarcastically, causing them both to laugh quite heartily, despite the joke not being even remotely funny. 

"So, did you win or not?", Cedric smiled at him and Harry seemed to be glowing. 

"Well yeah, actually, you can have the one thousand galleons, by the way, I don't really need it". Cedric felt scandalised, "Are you mental?! From what I have heard, you saved me from whatever was in that maze, you can take it!". 

Harry glared at Cedric, shaking his head furiously, "What on earth am I going to do with an extra one thousand galleons, honestly, I don't need it Cedric, you can have it". 

"Well, I thought that would be very obvious, buy yourself a new broom maybe?", he retorted, more amused than anything. 

"I got a firebolt last year, what on earth would I need a new broom for?! Anyway, it's not like I need the money", and at this stage Cedric was laughing. "Watch it, Potter, are trying to call me skint?", and Harry looked positively alarmed.

"Look, how about we split it, five hundred galleons we donate to the hospital and we take two - fifty each, how's that sound?", Cedric said, figuring it would settle the argument, but Harry was determined. 

"No", shaking his head again, "Donate the rest of it to St Mungos, if you wish, I don't want any of it".

Cedric laughed again and Harry looked sheepish, but smiled, nevertheless. "I've an idea, how about I take you shopping", and he watched humorously as Harry's eye's widened. "What?", he practically hissed. 

"I think you heard me the first time Harry", he said smiling, "-how about I take you shopping, and you can figure out what to get, I'll force you too". 

Harry looked at Cedric, seemingly considering. "It's the least I can do after you- did whatever it is that you did for me, you can bring Ron Weasley and uh, your other friend too, if you like"

"Yeah okay, but you're not going to make me buy anything", he said, stony face. "We'll see about that", and they both let out quiet laughs that eventually died down and the room restored to quiet. It wasn't tense like before, it wasn't awkward, but almost relaxing. The room felt cosy and still, and Cedric could tell by the way he winced slightly or blinked rapidly, that Harry's mind was also racing.

It only then occurred to him that this was the first, somewhat normal conversation he had ever had with Harry. The past year they only ever caught each-other’s eyes in corridors, sometimes mumbling hello's or nodding, but when they had ever spoken to each other, it had always been exchanging information to aid each other on life threatening tasks. Cedric hadn't realised how easy it was to talk to Harry when he wasn't fearing for his life. He was surprisingly calmer than he had thought he may be outside school. 

After a few minutes of this composed quiet, Harry stood up very suddenly. "I should probably- er, get going, my aunt and uncle are already quite unhappy that I've left the house already, but I've got to go back", Cedric noted the resignation in his voice. 

"Wait, do you have a quill, or something, you can write down my address, and um- I'll take yours and you can owl me whenever", Cedric said, trailing off. 

"Right, well I don't have a quill on me sorry", the beginnings of smirk on his face. "I think I've got a pencil in here somewhere, and he dug through his jeans pocket, producing a sort of small yellow stick.

“What on earth is that?”, Cedric said, and pointed to it. Before Harry could answer the question however, the door opened with a burst and the two jumped and turned to see Ron Weasley, red haired, red faced, quite literally, fell into the room, causing Harry and Cedric to burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Cedric held his stomach, which an addition to being bruised, hurt so much from laughing, he looked at Harry, who was helping Ron stand up but was shaking with laughter all the same.

His laugh. The way his eyes creased, and small drops of tears fell out of their corners. It was somewhat like his mother’s, sweet and gentle, nothing like his father’s which was more like a demonic roar than a sign of amusement, his friend Kole’s laugh was also quite scary, like a malfunctioning ticking clock so much that Cedric often avoided making joke’s in class due to the fact that it would most definitely land them both in detention.

Cedric snapped out of his analysing of laughs and inclined his head towards Ron who was smiling in a very grumpy way and was deeply red all over while Harry still chuckled.

He brushed himself and nodded at Cedric jerkily, before turning his whole body completely to face Harry, pushing him a bit violently, but Harry still laughed. “Shut up, you bastard”, he said, but didn’t sound angry.

Harry pushed him back and laughed even louder.

It was cute, their friendship, that is.

“I said shut up, you bollocks, listen, mum wants us out in five, but you’re not allowed to come to mine so you’ve got to have your tea here, she er- doesn’t trust your aunt and uncle”, and with that simple sentence, Harry’s laugh disappeared in an instant, replaced by a neutral expression.

It was so weird to Cedric. Surely his home situation couldn’t be so bad that it wiped the happiness and ease from his face so quickly. It suddenly dawned on him that Harry was an orphan. This was not by fault of the tonic, but by just Cedric being a bit slow and stupid. He suddenly felt a wave of remorse towards him “Right”, he said in a monotone voice. “Well- uh Cedric, get well soon, I’ll see you at school, I think”, he said in a voice that suggested that he genuinely did not know if they would see each other at school. Cedric started to answer but was cut off by Ron. “Um- yeah, see you at school, get well soon, and all that”, and without even waiting to hear if he had anything to say, Harry bolted out if the room, Ron tailing after him eagerly and shutting the door.

Cedric found himself alone again.

He scratched his nose and sighed when he realised that Harry hadn’t left his address. Suddenly the room felt less cosy than it had a moment ago, stuffier, and he wished he could take a walk in the fresh hair.

_‘Mark and Lewis are coming later’._

Cedric groaned, and he was not embarrassed. His friends were loud, like really loud, and Cedric often longed to put a silencing charm on them. They also always seemed to spend all their time ogling over how incredible Cedric was, how he was prefect, captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team, a Hogwarts house champion and how he had won numerous prizes for the school. And while Cedric loved his friends support of his achievements, he often felt that he was being tailed by a fan club.

It wasn’t just that they would praise him all the time, they also used him as excuses to be rude to other people, a recent example was the ‘Potter Stinks’, badges.

They never really listened to him either, Cedric had tried to voice his stress over the tri-wizard tournament, despite being happy he was chosen, but all his friends did was yell and say how he should be excited and not moody. None of them really knew how insecure he felt about himself.

He thought about Ron and Harry, how Harry was so relieved to see Ron, how he seemed so happy and at so much ease around him. He wished he had that sometimes. Cedric cringed at his complaining, at least he had friends.

The door opened and he was startled to see Harry’s head poke through again and enter the room, followed by his father. “I brought lunch, Ced”, his father said, and Harry jumped and turned around so quickly, obviously not aware that there had been someone behind him, that he smashed into the metal tray, that was in his father’s hands, and fell to the ground along with all the contents of the tray. Bits of ham, bread, juice and soup went everywhere and Cedric jumped out of his bed, not knowing whether to laugh or not.

He made his way over, and crouched down beside Harry, who was, trying, but failing to get up, slipping on a piece of ham. Cedric bit his tongue, willing himself not to laugh. “I’m alright”, he said as Cedric offered a hand, which he ignored, and he stood up, brushing himself off, a hand over his forehead.

“You might be alright, but my son’s lunch bloody well isn’t!”. He had momentarily forgotten that he was in the room and straightened up. Harry looked a little frightened and started apologising rapidly.

“Dad! It’s honestly not a big deal, we can clean this up really quickly”, and he reached for his wand, only to realise that he was in some strange blank hospital gown and he didn’t have his wand. He was going to ask his father for his, but was met with another distraction.

Another person had poked their head around the door, a girl with a lot of curly brown hair. “Harry!”, she said, exasperatedly, without addressing the two Diggory’s. “We have to go- look at the state of you, honestly! Come on!”, and she disappeared again. Harry looked so alarmed, Cedric thought he might burst, he quickly pushed something into Cedric’s hand, apologised again and ran out the room, hair drenched in soup.

When he left, Cedric looked at his father, who looked livid, and laughed, harder than he had all day, clutching his stomach, and wiping his eyes. “He’s bloody brilliant, isn’t he?”, he wheezed, taking a seat back on his bed.

“How is he bloody brilliant?! Your lunch has just gone everywhere! Look at the mess in here!”, but Cedric just smiled, shaking his head. “I’m not that hungry anyway”, and he got back in bed, smiling deeply.

His father rolled his eyes and left the room mumbling. Cedric took this time to look at what Harry had put in his hand; it was a small piece of paper with writing on it -ah.

_Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._

Cedric felt slightly amused, he had always thought, for some reason, that Harry Potter would live somewhere grand, maybe in a large, grand, country house, maybe somewhere exciting and thrilling, like near the sea, not in a London town, and definitely not in boring old Surrey. He didn’t pretend to be an expert on England geography, but his family has taken many trips around the country, and he had to say, London city was his least favourite place. He wasn’t really sure why, maybe it was because he had grown up in the countryside his whole life, that being in a noisy city was not appealing to him in the slightest.

He remembered quite vividly, a time where they had taken a holiday to France, it had been an absolute disaster, after a nice visit to the Eiffel tower, the family found themselves stranded. His mother had lost her purse with muggle money, and only has galleons and sickles, it was steadily growing dark and Cedric was the only one who could speak and understand French. That being said, Cedric had been thirteen at the time and extremely shy and refused to talk to anyone.

So, his parents had resigned to go back home. Perhaps it had been the stress of the day, but instead of apparating home, the three found themselves in the middle of a Surrey housing estate, the rain pouring down on them, hard. After a few minutes of laughing it off, Amos had managed to get a friend of his, who lived nearby, to pick him up, too tired and too scared to attempt to apparate again.

Cedric could not help but wonder if he had been mere footsteps away from Harry’s house. He folded the note carefully and put it under his pillow just as the nurse, his mother, his father and a woman with blue gloves and a hairnet came in. “Boys!”, the woman with the hairnet said, and proceeded to clean up the mess, Cedric, apologising multiple times. The nurse shut him up and gave him a new tray with food and, despite what he had said before, Cedric devoured everything in minutes while he and his father watched muggle television and his mother did crossword. It was now around five and the sun had just started setting and fill with soup and sandwiches, Cedric began to

feel very sleepy and closed his eye’s

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i typically write long chapters, this one, in particular is 5,000 words, tell me what you think!


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